Let me tell you something about daddy.
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He was an observant man.
I remembered when I was little, daddy was the one to take care of me when I fell sick. It was because he noticed the difference in my behaviour, in my speeches, the difference when my skin colour slightly off, and when I would not eat certain foods. So daddy being an observant person, was probably like a superhuman.
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The group of masked people and the man arrived at the outskirt of an abandoned town. A sound of howling could be heard from a far. It was a dangerous mission; their scent could be smelled and tracked back to them.
But of course, they were not amateur in this kind of work. Picking up where the direction of the wind blew, they took cover at the stilled area.
Silently, they waited.
A small movement from the left alerted the man. He signalled to the rest of his companion, 'A stray from the pack'.And they knew just simple magic would not give effect on the werewolves as they were immune to magic, but the group were also thankful that it was not a night with a full moon.
The people get into the formation, but the man stayed hidden to observe the rest of the pack and to notify his companions the moment the pack would be distracted. A moment passed and he signalled the group to be ready with the silent spells. One person Transfigured himself into a black venomous snake; one more manipulated the earth to be soaked with water and prepared a muddy area.
With a flick movement from the man's hand, they attacked.
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He was a person who would think thoroughly before deciding.
Events and party planning in the house were always handed over to Daddy; Momma only acted as the assistant. And he was perfect at the job. He spent at least two weeks thinking about the things that must be included in the events, the things that the participants could enjoy, the things that would bring the events alive, and finally could bring smile to his family's faces.
While making plans for the events or parties, my daddy always had this contemplating look on his face and he just looked so concentrate that even I could not manage to distract him. On his table, there would be several sheets of paper scribbled with plans which were being rewritten over and over again.
However at the end of the events, I always knew that my daddy was the best man at planning. The parties and events hold by him always had a perfect end.
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It was swift; but of course, it was only a lone werewolf.
But the man had taken several steps of measurement to ensure the capture was successful. They did not use any active magic which released sounds and lights; it would be foolish to use them in the area of Werewolves with heightened senses.
Instead, the venomous snake slither carefully in the mud; one more person lingered nearby; and one more stand with a small object being 'Wingardium Leviosa-ed' near the area.
As the werewolf ventured further into the mud, the 'silencing barrier' was activated. Surprised by sudden small energy of the magic, the werewolf prepared to escape; but not before the snake launched itself into werewolf's leg and deliver a powerful venom meant to immobile. As a safety measure, the small object attached itself to the werewolf's neck.
With less power, not being fuelled by the effect of full moon; the werewolf only struggled in the mud for a while. But alas, it gave a silent scream and laid unmoved.
Lifting the earth from the mud spell, the area returned to its dry state and the snake slither back to the hidden place. Carefully placing a sheet under the werewolf, one person 'Wingardium Leviosa-ed' the sheet carrying the werewolf and brought him to the man.
Slowly taking out the syringe from the werewolf's neck, he ordered one member with a small movement of his head to tie their captive. While still observing the rest of the pack, the group silently gather back. Taking out a small coin, they teleported away from that place.
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He was a pretty calm person.
My sister and I were not like Daddy.
Where dad was prim and proper, we were rumbustious and wild; but not in the sense of wayward daughters. We were just like his siblings, filled with curious thought and love the adventure.
When we played in the house, understand that the place would not look the same after the play. We would convert the living room into a maze; the kitchen became our experimenting area; bedroom was filled with a mess of objects being brought in from other places; library in disarray of books being let out several places (but not damaged. No. We appreciated books), and the attics littered with our toys and games.
Momma would scream at us to clean, and when it was loud enough; we listened and followed her orders to manage back the area of our mischief. After that she would spent hours upon hours nagging upon our misbehaviour, because Momma was a very organized person and she became distressed easily when she saw the after effect of our plays.
We did not meant harm, of course. We just simply forgotten to clean after our mess sometimes. Momma should understand that we were just two curious girls.
On the other hand; daddy, when he came back from the ministry, -often looking tired and listless, just took a look at the place.
He did not scream, nor shout, nor let out an angry voice. When he spoke, there was not even a hint of resentment in his voice. He just beckoned us over with a wave and lead us to a sitting area.
Then he asked us step by step about what we should do about the situation. He let us understand first about what was wrong about the situations, and when we admitted that we made a mess, he asked us about what action must we take next to fix it.
We discussed together like it was a problem needed to address properly and fact that he did not discouraged our curious behaviours and instead just focusing on the matter of mess at hand, gave us an assurance that our actions were not wrong. It was alright to be adventurous and curios, however he advised us to be aware of our consequences.
The scenario of a grown man discussing this matter with his two little girls like they were both already responsible young adults might have seemed ridiculous to others. But to us, his calm handling of situation washed us over like magic. His calm voice was soothing and easy to be understood and followed.
And somehow, we listened to him more rather than Momma.
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They were back at the designed area (predictably a basement). The captive was bounded and thrown rather forcefully unto the floor, which served to wake it up. The vitality of werewolf was great; and even with the potent venom from the snake and further poison from the syringe, the werewolf still began to stir awake.
The system in its body slowly pumped the blood to the whole body to nullify the poison and reject it through the flow of blood underneath its fingernails.
When the werewolf realized it had been captured, it struggled against the rope. But the struggling only assisted the rope in restricting his form much tightly, so it stopped. Instead, it looked around and gave a loud snarl.
The darkness that welcomed its snarl did not help its anxiety. His attackers were hidden in the shadow. A lone man stepped up and the werewolf whipped its head to his direction; though his face was still hidden.
Soon, the interrogation session started from the man's side, and were answered back with sneers and growls; -until finally, the werewolf had regained enough energy. Using the power of its hind legs, it surged forward.
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When he got mad, he became calculative. And a calm calculative person, was a dangerous person indeed.
There was a time when uncle George decided it was funny to tell about all embarrassing moments of daddy's childhood to us, his daughters. To be honest, they were just times when the twins played prank on him or used him for all sorts of experiments.
But when daddy knew about what uncle had done, he held this look on his face.
The retribution came by stages.
It started with small facts about Uncle delivered to his children during unassuming conversations. Somehow he managed to slip several embarrassing information about uncle in between the talks of small topic ("It's alright for your first time on the broom, Fred. My brother, George had it worse. His pant got stuck on the broom when he slipped from it.")("I remembered when your father and I played by this lake, Roxanne. He thought he caught a small school of fish with his hand. After he gulped some of them down, I told him they were tadpoles.")
And somehow Aunt Angelina managed to find several childhood pictures of her husband ("The gnomes multiplied in the times we were away. They were a little bit mischievous. Ahh, so this is where this picture went. Do you see this boy Angelina? This is little George when he was seven." "He had a bright red face." "Yes, mother took this picture after he changed his clothes." "What happened to the clothes before?" "He..." "Perce...!")
One evening, we were gathered together for a dinner at the grandparents' house. The affair proceeded as usual with loud chattering voices. That evening, grandma happened to cook a lot of dishes and did not have enough plates to serve. So daddy helped her to look for stored plates in the cabinet, and after a while brought out an antique plate with a neon green colour. ("That plate looks familiar, Percy." "Why, yes mother. It is." "It looks like the plate which my mother gave to me for a present after the twins' birth." "I guess it is, mother." "Why had it been gone for... fifteen years? And why is it... green?" "I don't know, mother. I found it just now." "... George.")
And it might be my imagination but Uncle George followed daddy into his room, and after he left, daddy graced his daughters with a soft smile.
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He bid his time.
He asked questions to test the resilient of the werewolf towards the Persuasive magic he hide in his voice.
It seemed that werewolves were indeed magical creatures immune to magic, so he gathered that information into the many facts inside of his head.
The problem was, how to break the werewolf into giving out information when it was so resilient to magic? When the werewolf started to move, he started with the second phase.
The group around him sprang into actions; a sound of air being slashed was heard, and suddenly, the werewolf found that it could not move. Its hind legs suddenly felt numb. Several seconds went by when finally, it let out a painful howl.
Its hind legs were nailed unto the floor with a set of silver tools. A final person landed on its back; making sure to land heavily enough to cause pain, and nailed a pair more of silver tools on both of its shoulders.
All the power seemed to sap from its body, and the blood stopped pumping the poison out. Slowly, the werewolf started to feel hazy. But the man before him spoke again.
The air around it seemed to change, and the dark place started to be filled with a thick mist. The werewolf began to feel lost and drowsy, its body turning languid. A whisper managed to find a way into its mind, and the werewolf let it in. The voice was sweet; it promised that everything would be fine and it would light the way to get out from the mist. The voice contained deep reassurance that everything would be alright if it would just give the voice the information it needed.
The werewolf immediately opened its eyes at that.
Its forehead covered in sweat, it looked upward. A man adorned in all black looked back at him. His face was close enough for it to notice all the details; a man's face crowned with a dark red hair, cut short and arranged in a proper way. A pair of horn-rimmed glasses adorned his face; a determined look in his eyes.
A set of hard blue eyes which ordered it to speak.
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And did I mentioned that, he was the only person to receive all twelve O.W.L.s in history?